This morning was spent on final preparations for our trip. After lunch Ranger Tyler and I packed all our gear into a park vehicle and drove over to the park hanger which is next to the lagoon where the park's float plane is parked. When our pilot arrived we got everything loaded up into the small plane, much of the gear fitting into the storage compartments on the floats and the rest we had to cram behind, in, and around the backseat where Ranger Tyler was sitting. We took off close to 4pm and enjoyed gorgeous views of town, the ocean, Hotham Inlet, and then up the Noatak River and along the Kelly River on the west side of the Noatak Preserve. As we approached our lake I was finally overcome by airsickness. I'm told this is exceedingly common, even among pilots when they're not behind the wheel, and so I'll freely advertise that flying in these tiny aircraft that barely fit two people across is not for the faint of heart. I'll also say that it was not the best idea to be wiggling around, looking out on all sides of the plane and alternating between cameras to take copious photographs. It was an excellent nausea inducer, but I couldn't help myself. As we approached our destination, the pilot spotted a bear on the tundra just south of our lake, the southern of the Rainbow Lakes. This was the first of many grizzly sightings.

Our plane landed and taxied to the west shore at the north end of an opening in the trees. We tied up, unloaded our gear, and the pilot promptly took off again, leaving the two of us alone for miles and miles in the middle of nowhere. In the entirety of the Noatak Preserve there were maybe a dozen people. Remember that this is an area the size of Massachusetts. First things first we decided to set up our kitchen area where we'd unloaded the plane. The shoreline rises to surrounding tundra, and the slope was an excellent setup that would minimize how much gear we'd have to move when it was time to leave.

If you read my previous post and the part about the realities of the tundra and grass tussocks, you can understand the difficulty we had in selecting a tent site. Had we hiked a quarter mile further inland, we could have found less bumpy ground, but it would have taken us 20 minutes to walk to our kitchen site for meals and water access. So, we pitched tents above the rise to the west of the lake where we had a nice, open view to watch for bears. I managed to find a spot where I had a tussock under my head, one against my left hip, and another at my right knee, but I could wedge my thermarest and sleeping bag between the rest and had a little aisle that was reasonable comfortable for sleeping.

After getting set up, we headed back to the kitchen to make rice and bean burritos for dinner. The lake became very still and the reflections of trees and mountains came alive. It was stunning. I ran around compulsively photographing everything and too late realized that it was starting to rain across the lake. We managed to gather the most sensitive things together and sat by them with a tarp held overhead to stay reasonably dry through the downpour. It didn't rain for too long, and the clouds and colors that followed were even more stunning than pre-rain. We finished organizing everything, then hiked north along the lake into the brush and trees. It was pretty dense, but there are a few distinct paths, clearly used by bears and other wildlife. We made plenty of noise as we navigated through, very aware of the high likelihood of grizzlies being in these woods.

In the trees north of our kitchen was the remains of an old hunting camp, primarily used during the 60s and 70s before this was a preserve. There were five wooden tent platforms left, and we were charged with breaking them down and burning the wood to restore the area. We assessed the area this evening to make a plan.

We headed back to the kitchen, cleaned up, headed up to the tents, and hung up all our wet gear and clothes. I read for a while, and fell asleep somewhere around midnight, with the sun still up in the sky.

Our plane and pilot, getting ready to go.

Wearing my hip waders.
Getting gear in and out of the plane,
getting yourself in and out,
can be a wet and mucky affair.

Ranger Tyler and I, ready for takeoff.

Heading out for takeoff.

Flying over Kotzebue.

Flying North toward the mouth of the Noatak River.

Flying along the Noatak River.

A rainbow over the Igichuk Hills west of the Baird Mountains.

North along the Kelly River.

Landed on the southern Rainbow Lake.

Watching our connection to the outside world takeoff.

I had enough remaining airsickness to not feel the enormity
of solitude I thought I'd experience watching our ride disappear.

Goodbye outside world, at least for a few days.

Our gear piled up near the shore.

Scoping out possible tent sites.

Blueberries!

The berries were huge for wild blueberries, and so tasty.

Red sphagnum moss with other plants I haven't learned yet.

A clump of spider web with water droplets.

North and east toward unnamed mountains in the
De Long Mountains of the Brooks Range.

The lake was so very still.

The east shore of the lake.

An Arctic Loon.

The first of many rainbows on Rainbow Lakes.

Looking to the south end of the lake.

Unidentified water fowl flying over.

Northern Shovelers.

A panorama of our lake.

Dinner time.

As the storm passed.

Looking southeast.

Today I began eight days of wilderness exploration with a park ranger, based in two different areas of the Noatak National Preserve: Rainbow Lakes along the Kelly River and Long Lake along the Nimiuktuk River. The preserve was initially designated a National Monument by President Carter in 1978. The Noatak contains 6,569,904 acres of boreal forest and tundra that's north of the Arctic Circle and borders Gates of the Arctic National Park to the east and Kobuk Valley National Park to the south. The northern border of the preserve encompasses the Brooks Range, the southern border the Baird Mountains. This is a vast, expansive landscape roughly the size of the state of Massachusetts. The Noatak is home to moose, grizzly bears, black bears, wolves, Arctic foxes, lemmings, voles, shrews, Dall's sheep, vast herds of caribou numbering more than 200,000 individuals, and a variety of birds. There are no roads here. The only access to the Noatak is by plane or boat. Small airplanes can land on flatter areas of tundra (of which there are few) or on larger gravel bars on the rivers. Float planes can land on a limited number of lakes and rivers. Boats can access much of the Noatak River and limited stretches of its tributaries. Aside from pilots, few people get to see much, if any, of this immense country. I feel extraordinarily lucky to be offered this opportunity.

Rainbow Lakes are unique in that they are spring fed and do not freeze during the harsh winters here, where temperatures are regularly 30 and 40 degrees below zero. Permafrost is a mere 10 inches to 2 feet below the surface. This area has some spruce forest making it ideal habitat for grizzlies and very lovely to photograph.

Tundra vegetation is dense and varied, plants growing on top of each other with large grass tussocks making walking quite difficult. A tussock is generally 8-24 inches in diameter and anywhere from 8-24 (or more) inches tall. They are hard, but unstable, my ranger companion said the best metaphor he's heard yet likens walking on tussocks to trying to walk on a field of bowling balls. They roll under you and your ankles are constantly twisting. The tussocks on the arctic tundra here grow densely and are surrounded by blueberries, cranberries, blackberries, mosses, Labrador (tundra) tea, and myriad other plants. Everything grows in a mass, with small patches where one plant dominates between the tussocks. Walking along, you can sometimes find solid footing on a patch of springy sphagnum moss, but more often when your foot goes down, what it lands on gives way, unevenly, and you sink unpredictably. It's impossible to walk in a straight line or avoid tripping. Your feet and ankles are constantly twisting and turning with each step. Where the tussocks are deepest, you have to raise your knees way up to try to step over each one and try to find something more stable to land on. It is impossibly slow and exhausting to hike on the tundra. One mile takes and hour or more, and feels like five very hard, uphill miles.

The plants of the tundra are extremely varied in appearance and fascinating to look at up close. There were abundant ripe blueberries everywhere, and some ripening cranberries and blackberries. Plenty of fresh fruit to enjoy and round out our diet.

We practiced proper bear safety for this region, hollering "hey bears" and other things to make them aware of our presence, wearing bear spray at all times, and carrying a shotgun for emergencies (primarily to make a loud noise to scare off a bear that isn't frightened by our smell, noise, and other efforts). Grizzlies here are not the problem they are in some places. They are not accustomed to humans and still have a natural fear of us. So long as you behave intelligently, you're unlikely to end up in a bad situation.

It's difficult to convey the enormity of the Noatak Preserve. It's the size of Massachusetts, there were maybe as many as a dozen other people there during our time. In our long days of hiking, at each lake we only covered an area equivalent to a city neighborhood. So we visited two neighborhoods in the state of Massachusetts after spending 8 solid days of hiking and exploring. Flying across the preserve was a remarkable experience, and afforded a grasp of it's magnitude.

My next eight blog entries will detail each day of the expedition, and I will also include a couple blogs dedicated solely to wildlife and plants. For now, here are a few images to whet your appetite for more.